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Welcome

The SisterWorlds is a collaborative science fiction and fantasy site for an ongoing Dungeons and Dragons campaign that has built up into what Ron Johnson called, “The America of fantasy worlds,” a fictional nation called Rakore. Ron went on to to say that he was excited about a world where the characters actions can have profound consequences for subsequent campaigns. With the SisterWorlds having been founded in 1996, decades worth of wars and nation-building have been influenced, changed, and significantly altered by the players.

Current Fiction Campaign:Campaign IX. With magic legalized in the nation of Rakore, officials scramble to hire mages to deal with magic. And, of course, every mage needs a guardian to keep them out of trouble. And perhaps another guardian to clean up the mess. The campaign takes place in the aftermath of the local kingdom's War of the Four Winds, which was preceded by the global conflaguration known as the War of the Undead.

NOTE: The site wound up with 15 million users from December 2013 to June 2014 – and all of them were spam bots. This necessitated a major refurbishing of the site, so some systems may be offline until fixes are in, especially pictures and image files. About two dozen legitimate users lost their accounts, and they should contact me when they're ready for reactivation.

Fiction

Excerpt from Harry McKenzie's Cleo's Journal chapter Innocence Lost, one of dozens of stories written on or about the campaigns.

(You couldn’t protect them… You couldn’t protect them… You couldn’t protect them. You couldn’t protect them. You couldn’t protect themyoucouldn’tprotectthemyoucouldn'tprotectthem…) It was running though my head like some sort of mantra as I spurred my horse into a faster gallop. I couldn’t seem to get it to stop, either. Right then, I hated myself with a passion and intensity that I’d never felt before.

I spared a quick glance down at myself as the horse came out of a turn on the narrow forest trail – I was still covered in a mixture of troll blood, and blood from the little girl it had killed. (You couldn’t protect them…) Some of the blood belongs to Seamus, my lover, the man I’m pursuing right now. (You couldn’t protect them…) But none of it is mine. Somehow that makes it worse.

I had come out of the rage in the cellar to find that Seamus was gone. Angus was lying dead on the ground, Aust looked like he had been beat senseless, N'Kara had turned into some kind of half-tiger, and Jena was burning the remains of the last troll – things had gone completely to hell. As soon as I saw Angus, I knew where Seamus had gone – he was heading back to Gridolin, to sail home and tell his family that he had gotten Angus killed. Damn fool.

I had to stop him. None of this was his fault, but he would be thinking otherwise. (You couldn’t protect them… You couldn’t protect them…) I ran to where the horses had been left, leapt onto mine, and lashed it into a run. I rode like the fires of hell were after me. I had no idea how much of a head start he had – surely no more than five minutes, but I had to catch him quickly. The damn fool was hurt – hurt badly, and in no condition to do what he was trying to do.